Of dust we are made. Star dust. Of the stars we are curious. We love the clear dark nights that allow our gaze upward, finding constellations familiar and know that constellations unfamiliar lie below our line of sight.

What is it about these twinkling objects in the sky that allow us to slip right past all the scientific information about them (hot gas, burning hydrogen into helium in their core) and find ourselves comforted, enchanted, thrilled by the beauty of their light, by the surprise when they burn out, streaking across our vast sky. What is it?

What is it about the delight of skipping the “core” of a person, stardust, sometimes not more than hot gas, not really all that attractive; what is it that allows us to see the beauty, the light, the sparkle instead of the complicated core?